


I'll Give You the Moon

by Lillus



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Canon Universe, Denial of Feelings, Falling In Love, M/M, No Angst, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Volleyball Dorks in Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-31
Updated: 2017-02-08
Packaged: 2018-09-21 01:46:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9526403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lillus/pseuds/Lillus
Summary: An awkward interaction in the summer between Tsukishima and Kuroo alters their friendship, to the former's dismay. While Tsukishima refuses to acknowledge the consequences, racking his mind for a way to rationalize his feelings away instead, Kuroo seems happy to use this as a chance to take their relationship to the next level. "Yes or no?" Smirking, he forces the Clever Blocker to show him faces other than his bored one.





	1. Leave Room for Jesus

**Author's Note:**

> I love this ship. Hopefully, I was able to capture their voices in an authentic way. Let me know in the comments what you liked, what I should improve upon, suggestions for the next chapter, anything. Because I love comments as much as I love KuroTsukki. =) Thank you so much for viewing!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tsukishima learns how to be a better blocker under Kuroo's guidance during the summer before the older boy is to leave for university. Growing close enough to be what you could call friends, Kuroo convinces Tsukishima to be his cohort in a silly prank. Now they're in a closet, hiding from Nekoma's angry players, in what Tsukishima can only describe as the most uncomfortable situation of his life.
> 
> Fuuuuuuu, okay, while writing Chapter 3 I remembered Nekoma High School is in Tokyo. Why would Tsukki go there every weekend? So, explanation: His family and he are in Tokyo for the summer, living with and visiting relatives. Nice save. I edited a paragraph to make it work with this.

He leaned his head against the tree, slowing his heavy breathing and enjoying the shade. It was quiet, but if you focused you could hear many sounds—the sweltering outdoors alive with the constant hum of mosquitoes, an occasional sparrow's chirp. Soft chatter and laughter as friends passed by, making their ways home and wheeling squeaky bikes beside them. And from the gymnasium, the skidding of sneakers, grunts, and sharp slaps against the volleyball. Thuds as it hit the ground followed by cheers and claps on the backs from the opposite side. Sounds that were as familiar to him as his own name.

"Taking it easy, Tsukki?" He could hear the smile in the speaker's voice.

"Kuroo." Tsukishima opened his eyes. He had told him multiple times that he didn't like that nickname, and to please call him "Tsukishima," but it was impossible to make Kuroo change his mind once he had started thinking a certain way. And he thought "Tsukki" sounded endearing.

The tall man towered over him, grinning widely. His black hair was disheveled, as always.

Kuroo had a mischievous look in his eyes as he glanced behind him at the gym and back at Tsukishima. He rocked back and forth on his heels, hands jammed in his jacket pockets. "So this is what you meant when you said you wanted to practice with Nekoma," he said, cheerily. "Looks like a nice place to nap."

A month of weekly practice with Nekoma's former captain had improved Tsukishima's blocking skills immensely. It had also trained him to deal with the sly personality of the "Scheming Captain." Ignoring the playful taunt, he said, "I've practiced enough for today. I'll be going now." He didn't make a move to get up, knowing full well his reply would make Kuroo get to the point.

Kuroo stopped rocking on his heels and frowned. "It's still early though." He dropped to a squat. "You get to help me with something fun. Lucky guy!"

"Lucky?" Tsukishima's eyebrows quirked. He had a feeling he was the complete opposite of that.

The black-haired man barely suppressed his chuckles as he closed a strong hand around Tsukishima's wrist. "Don’t give me that face. Just follow." He yanked Tsukishima to his feet effortlessly.

It was times like these, Tsukishima noted, as he was pulled across the yard like an unwilling dog on a leash, that he cursed his own lankiness. In Kuroo's grip, his wrist looked laughably thin. The other players always teasingly yelled in practice that they were one strong spike from snapping his arms off, that they had to hold back out of fear, that they couldn't abide the sight of broken bones. He couldn't help it; this is what growth spurts did to your body. They stretched you vertically like a rubber band and thinned you out in the process. The muscles would come later. He was a growing boy, he told himself, like a mantra.

Tsukishima dug his feet into the ground and Kuroo abruptly dropped his wrist. He felt a brief flash of victory, before realizing it was because they had arrived at their destination that the pair had stopped in front of the water fountain. A white bucket was on the ground beside it. He looked inside to find it empty.

"What is it?" Tsukishima said, the interest he was feeling not quite reaching his voice.

"You always look so bored, Tsukki! Today's the day to change that," Kuroo chuckled as he dug in the pocket of his red Nekoma jacket. Producing a colorful plastic bag victoriously, he held it inches from Tsukishima's face, forcing him to look at it cross-eyed. "It's hot today and the boys have been practicing hard. So, I thought we could help them cool down a little." He grinned, obviously proud of his own wit.

Tsukishima stared at the bag. They were water balloons. This was what he had been dragged out for. This was the secret he had "luckily" been selected for. He looked back up at Kuroo, with his dumb grin and dumber hair, wondering, and not for the first time that month, why he associated himself with a man-child.

Easy. Because Kuroo used to be captain of Nekoma's skilled team—Karasuno's ultimate rival. Because, though he would never admit this out loud, he was Tsukishima's idol. He was the reason Tsukishima had asked if he could practice with Nekoma, especially since he was going to be in Tokyo for the summer anyway with his family, visiting relatives. While there had been protests about giving special treatment to someone from the rival team, Kuroo was the reason Tsukishima had been allowed to join, after he had backed the blonde up by giving a touching speech about how those who loved volleyball were on the same team. And, most importantly, he was the reason Tsukishima was a better blocker, a fact that showed during summer practices when Karasuno came for their usual week of summer training camp. “Wooooah, where did you learn that?” Hinata had screamed after an especially impressive block while Tsukishima smiled secretively and thought: From Kuroo.

At the end of summer, Kuroo would be leaving for university. He was, at his core, a smart, capable leader worthy of the respect Tsukishima gave him in secret. Yet, here he was, giggling like a 3rd grader who had looked up "boob" in a dictionary for the first time.

"Are you stupid?" Tsukishima said, but it wasn't a question.

Kuroo pouted. "That hurts, Tsukki. I thought you looked up to me."

"You? That's pretty funny." Like hell he would admit it. People like Kuroo didn’t need anymore self-assurance.

"Come on." The ex-captain pulled out a balloon, dangled it in the blond's face, then dropped it into his hands. "It'll be hilarious, I promise! Help me fill these with water."

Tsukishima looked down at the red balloon in his hand, then back up. He frowned. "Seriously, I don't want to be a part of this. Go ask someone else."

Kuroo had pressed the opening of his balloon against the lip of the water fountain and begun filling it. When Tsukishima said this, he looked up, eyes distressed. "But I want it to be you," he said, the honesty so blatant in his voice that Tsukishima, who had started to walk away, turned back with raised eyebrows. "I'm leaving for university soon and I want to create some memories before I leave. I know it's pretty dumb...but I want my favorite blocker to be a part of these memories. I'll remember them fondly when I'm getting white hairs over exams and suffering from crippling depression," Kuroo said somberly. The two were quiet for a moment before he brightened up. "Oh! Think of it as payback. They've been making fun of your twiggy arms all month!"

"In that case, you should be the first one I hit with one of these" Tsukishima retorted without hesitation, but his mind was still processing the words "I want it to be you" and "my favorite blocker."

"Aw. I thought I was an exception, Tsukki."

Why did Kuroo always say such absurd things? He was constantly teasing Tsukishima, saying ridiculous things that bordered on flirtatious, as if nothing entertained him more than seeing the younger boy riled up. Tsukishima had long ago figured out how to react to being goaded, which was not to react at all. Giving his perpetrators the good ol' deadpan, apathetic expression, he struck them down with one word: "lame." He knew that these were pretty compliments that cost nothing for the ex-captain to give away. They should mean nothing to him too. If this were anyone else, he wouldn’t give a damn, except this was Kuroo and Tsukishima owed Kuroo more than he could admit.

And this time the idiot actually sounded sincere.

"It's only because you're leaving," Tsukishima said, pushing past Kuroo to fill his balloon up.

"YES." Kuroo pumped his fist. "Thank you!" he exclaimed, clapping the blond on the back hard enough to make him flinch.

"Don't make me change my mind," he said, as his mouth twitched into an imperceptible smile.

☆✦☆✦☆✦☆✦☆✦☆✦

Bucket full and swinging between the two boys, Tsukishima and Kuroo walked back to the gymnasium. Looking down at the two water balloons in his hands, the blond was already regretting his decision. Nekoma had taken him under their wings and he was going to return his thanks by flinging it in their faces. Bravo. This was surely how you convince the rival team to let you back next week for more practice.

Kuroo smiled at him. “Don’t worry. The guys love a good joke.”

Tsukishima wasn’t sure if Kuroo knew there was a difference between being in on a joke and being the butt of one.

But Tsukishima wasn’t going to lie. It would be hilarious to shut Lev the ear sore up with a water balloon to the mouth. And he wondered what kind of reaction Kenma, who he had never once seen lose his cool, would have.

"Hey assholes!" Kuroo crowed as they entered the gym. He placed the bucket down as several heads turned to look in their direction. The sounds of the match quieted to a halt. “We heard you guys were hot so…” He scanned his brain for a good pun, then balked when he couldn’t come up with one. He glanced at Tsukishima, gesturing for him to finish his lame opener. Tsukishima shrugged back.

“Ah…so, have a good drink!” Kuroo laughed giddily, reaching his hand into the bucket. With one eye closed and tongue stuck out in concentration, he took aim towards the left side of the court.

That was Tsukishima’s cue. They only had a few seconds before the boys reacted and retaliated by tackling them to the ground or turning the water balloons on them. Tsukishima turned to his right, scanning the court and pinpointing Lev and Kenma standing close to each other. That made things pretty easy.

Kuroo’s aim, honed by years of volleyball, netted him a solid hit against Yaku. The brown-haired libero erupted.

“Shit on my father’s house! Water balloons? Are you kidding me, you giant twatwaffle?”

Kuroo laughed hysterically.

With his right hand, Tsukishima aimed for Kenma. As soon as the water balloon left his hand, he bounced the water balloon in his left hand to his throwing hand and aimed this one at Lev.

As the second balloon soared through the air, Tsukishima realized his heart was pounding. Exhilaration coursed through his body. When the balloons hit their two target directly, exploding in a satisfying splash and drawing a "fuck!" from Lev and a mildly confused look from a soaked Kenma, Tsukishima heard loud, gleeful peals of laughter, and, with surprise, realized they were coming from his mouth. He whirled around to the bucket to reload, and witnessed Kuroo screaming "huuuuuuroaaaaah" as if he were powering up a special move from Dragon Ball Z. He saw Kuroo’s water balloon burst against the back of Nekoma’s #12, Yūki, who had turned and tried fleeing. And he laughed some more.

"Oh shit!" Kuroo exclaimed when he saw Yaku stalking towards him. He turned around, clapped Tsukishima on the forearm. "That’s all we’re gonna get. Run!”

Damn. Heart pounding in his ears, he bit back his uncontrollable laughing when he saw the dark look in Yaku’s eyes. Ideally, he would’ve landed three hits, but there was no time. In fact, it was a good thing they hadn't gotten all the boys, since the ones who weren't soaked were now doubled over, laughing at the plight of their teammates. This meant dealing with only a total of three furious boys and one confused Kenma. Quickly, he slammed the two water balloons in his hands against the ground by his feet, hoping to buy them time to run away.

“Ohhhh, you’re not getting away,” someone yelled.

“Get back here!” someone else called.

“Like hell!” Kuroo yelled, jogging backwards as he waited for Tsukishima to catch up. He put two fingers to his forehead and saluted his team. “You might want to dry off, boys,” he said with a wink, drawing more expletives from the boys.

That was Kuroo alright. Even with a pack of angry wet cats snarling and brandishing their claws at him, he could spare a moment to taunt them. How he managed to remain captain these past years was a mystery to Tsukishima. How did the others even tolerate this mad man?

Probably for the same reason Tsukishima had agreed to the prank. Kuroo was a natural born leader, a schemer. He was brilliant and charismatic. Sure, there was a chance you were being provoked, manipulated. Or you may just be doing it of your own free will, hoping it would get you in the man's good graces, quietly wishing it would get you just a little closer to someone who was always untouchable.

“Fuuuuuuuuuck, we are so dead,” Kuroo said, sounding happier than he should about it. The pair made their way towards the school.

Tsukishima stared at Kuroo's back. The number 1 branded on his jacket fluttered as the older boy ran a few feet ahead. As his heart pounded loudly, he felt a strange feeling welling up inside. He hadn’t expected this ridiculous prank to be anything but a waste of time, and well, to be honest, he still wasn’t convinced otherwise, but he was _having_ _fun._ Unbelievably, this was fun. He couldn’t deny the ridiculously wide grin on his face.

This was what it felt like to be on Kuroo’s team.

The pair were hit with a blast of air conditioning as the lead prankster threw open the door to the school. Slipping inside, they continued running, their footsteps echoing down the empty hall. Tsukishima couldn’t hear the others behind them. Good, his quick thinking had earned them a few precious seconds of a head start. The pair reached the end of the hallway and veered sharply, turning the corner as their sneakers squeaked against the shiny linoleum.

"The classroom," Tsukishima panted.

"No, too obvious. There, the closet." Kuroo pointed to a small supply closet that the students stored their cleaning supplies in. He flung the door open. "Yesss, this'll work. Who in their right mind would look in here?"

Tsukishima looked inside and his eyebrows contorted in disbelief. No, the real question was who in their right mind would hide in here? Cramped, unlit, and filled with various brooms, mops, and spray bottles, the thought of cramming two boys, both over 6 feet tall, in there was so unappealing Tsukishima figured he rather let himself be caught. Time to make a sacrifice for the team.

Kuroo flung his body into the small space without hesitation and pressed himself against the brooms, splaying himself out as flat as he could with his hands pressed against the wall. He grinned. “Come on,” he urged.

Tsukishima stared. Kuroo stared back. 

“No, I’ll go distract the others,” Tsukishima said.

"I'm a cat, I have nine lives. You, little crow, have one." Kuroo paused and sighed, rolling his eyes upwards exaggeratedly. "It's just senpai, okay? You know, your friend? I’m trying to save your ass. Get in here, Tsukki."

“There's no space. You can’t fight the laws of phy-" He stopped short as Kuroo leaned out of the closet and snatched a fistful of his shirt, pulling roughly. Tsukishima stumbled inside against Kuroo’s chest with a grunt.

“Stand up,” Kuroo said. But even before he could, Kuroo was heaving Tsukishima up against him and clasping a hand on his back. Then, he reached out again and closed the door. The doorknob jabbed painfully against the blond’s back.

"Ow, dammit. I said we both couldn't fit," Tsukishima said. He was pissed off. Damn, Kuroo was rough as hell. Was Tsukishima wearing a sign that said "Manhandle me?"

"Shhh."

Biting on his lip, Tsukishima suppressed an angry response. He straightened up so he wasn’t pressed against Kuroo’s body, but as anyone with a brain could have deduced, there wasn’t enough space for two people.

A second passed. They heard the other boys pounding down the hallway, the growing sound of angry stomps and chatter getting closer, like a stampeding herd of rhinos nearing.

"Where are they? The bastards!"

"Don't even think about hiding!"

"Kuroo, I get, but Tsukishima too? Can’t trust that blondie!"

Tsukishima kept still. The noise came and passed, leaving Tsukishima and Kuroo safely hidden in silence.

“Luuuuucky." The Scheming Captain chuckled under his breath, his shoulders shaking with barely suppressed laughter. "Not a moment too soon. I wonder what kind of punishment they have for us. Eh, Tsukki?"

Kuroo's chuckle was an exhale against Tsukishima's mouth. Sharply, the boy turned his face, eyebrows furrowed. A sudden need to push Kuroo away rose up in him. This was too close. He never let anyone this close, hadn’t in years (mothers didn't count). This was uncomfortable, sweaty, hot. This was a man—hard and strong, like being smashed up against an unmoving boulder.

Kuroo's hand was still resting on his back, pulling him close so they could both fit without spilling back into the hallway. Tsukishima lifted his hands, pushed against Kuroo's arms.

"Dude, I'm backed up against the wall here," Kuroo whined.

"Where the hell are your hands?" Tsukishima snapped.

“Uhh, sorry.” Kuroo dropped them abruptly. "Guess you don't like being touched, huh?" He chuckled.

"No." Where in the name of all that was holy was Kuroo’s leg? Jutted snugly between his own, of course. Marvelous. He could feel Kuroo's thigh, muscular and strong, squeezed between his own two skinny legs. A bead of sweat trickled down his forehead.

He tried to back away, felt the doorknob jab into his spine, and winced. Every nerve on his skin was screaming to get away.

"You okay?" He felt Kuroo’s face move in the darkness.

“No. There’s no space. I’m getting out of here,” he said. Reaching behind him, Tsukishima searched out the doorknob.

"Don't." Kuroo's right hand encircled his wrist again, pulling it away.

God, Kuroo had a fascination with his wrists, didn’t he? “Are you some kind of perverted dom?” Tsukishima sneered. He twisted his wrist, feeling no give in the grip. "Let go." For fuck's sake, how strong was this man? Tsukishima was an inch taller, but in terms of strength, there was no comparison. It almost wasn’t fair.

"Dom?" Kuroo guffawed. "You don't think I'm a sadist, do you? And stop it, they might come back this way."

"Oh, I do. Ten perfectly good classrooms to pick from and you forced me into this supply closet. What else am I supposed to think?" Tsukishima said icily, still twisting his wrist. He flinched at the pain.

"Looks like we're getting to know each other pretty well," the raven-haired man said, a smile in his voice. "It could be worse," he joked. "I could be ugly. I told you, you're a lucky guy."

“That’s funny.” He yanked again. “Let go.”

“It’s so twiggy,” Kuroo mused. He gave Tsukishima’s wrist an experimental squeeze, in no particular rush to listen. “Didn’t I tell you to eat more protein? If you did, you wouldn’t be overpowered so easily.”

Tch. Didn't they just talk about how he didn't like to be touched? And here Kuroo was, feeling up his wrist. His anger flared. Forget whatever slight feelings of camaraderie he had felt before. They were idiotic. Just like how this situation was idiotic. He was in a broom closet with the world’s biggest idiot, who smelled like sweat and faintly of sweet fabric softener, looked like a rooster, and didn't know when enough was enough.

 _You’re an idiot too_ , a voice said to him. Shut up. I know. Seeking Kuroo’s approval, listening to his empty compliments—that was how he had gotten himself into this situation. _Not that, idiot. Why are you so nervous?_ The voice almost leered at him. What? No, I'm not.

He opened his mouth, ready to tear into Kuroo, ready to verbally rip him a new one until he was begging for forgiveness.

And then he felt Kuroo adjust his leg, felt pressure _down there_. Tsukishima felt a twinge and squeezed his eyes shut, a gasp of surprise lodged in his throat. The insults he had been preparing died on his tongue. He froze. Don’t tell me…

Another exhale on his face, closer now. "Do you hear anyone?" Kuroo murmured, face inches away in the darkness. His voice was low, husky. Another twinge.

Please. Don't. Not now.

"Hm?" He heard Kuroo's voice, but the tone was impossible to pinpoint. Tsukishima couldn't detect any disgust or laughter in the other man's voice. He would feel so much better if Kuroo just made another stupid joke. "I know I said you got lucky, but this isn't what I meant" would suffice. Say something, dammit, Tsukishima wanted to scream. But instead, Kuroo fell silent after one syllable.

An awkward silence enveloped the small closet.

"So-sorry," Tsukishima finally managed. Fuck. Fuck! Why was this happening to him? He twisted his wrist again. "I'm gonna go. Let go."

There was no response. "Are you deaf?" Tsukishima snapped, his usual nonchalant tone long gone as anger and embarrassment fought for dominance over his emotions. Or do you like having another guy's hard on pressed up against you? Aren't you disgusted? Even _Tsukishima_ was disgusted with himself.

With the hand that wasn't ensnared by Kuroo's monster grip, Tsukishima reached behind him. He knew hiding here had been a bad idea. He knew he shouldn't have agreed to that dumb prank. But what he hadn't foreseen was this betrayal by his own body.

"Tsukki..." Kuroo's voice was low in his ear. Kuroo's hand fell from the small of his back to the bottom of his shirt. Kuroo's fingers grazed his naked skin. _What_...? Tsukishima's eyes widened as his mind raced, unable to comprehend what was happening.

His lower body throbbed again and he twisted away reflexively as if he had been burned. That was definitely an accident, right? Not that he was going to wait to find out. His hand had finally found the doorknob. Thank god. With a sharp twist and push, he threw it open behind him, filling the closet with light. Shoving against Kuroo by the chest with all his strength, he stumbled backwards. Kuroo’s grip finally slipped off as Tsukishima fell into the hallway. He looked up, caught a quick glance of Kuroo's face. Why the hell was _he_ red? But that didn't matter. Tsukishima knew he looked far worse.

He knew he was flushed, from his cheeks all the way to the tips of his ears. He knew he was hard. And worse, Kuroo knew this too.

"Wait, Tsukki," Kuroo said, stepping forward. A broom tipped and knocked against his head. "Ow. Damn."

As Kuroo tried to disentangle himself, Tsukishima whirled around onto his hands, stumbled to his feet, and fled down the hallway.


	2. Yes or No

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things develop between Kuroo and Tsukki. *eyebrow wiggling intensifies*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was going to be angst. Then I realized I don't want to write angst, I don't want to put these wonderful characters through torment. We have enough of the "Well, we kiss, make love, go on dates, see each other three times a week, and have been doing so consistently for the last 5 months, but it's still too early to call him my boyfriend, you know?" in real life. Just...no. Fluff for days!
> 
> I'm viewing fanfiction as a way to improve my writing, so I'm hopeful that it's gradually, EVER SO SLIGHTLY, getting better.
> 
> Lastly, does anyone have tips for getting rid of the angled quotation marks that appear when you copy and paste from MS Word, and changing them into regular quotation marks? Copying and pasting into Notepad doesn't get rid of all formatting, unfortunately.

Popping a boner against your idol's thigh, hightailing it out of there, and leaving him alone to take on whatever revenge Nekoma's team had concocted in their wrath-fueled creativity was pretty high up there on the list of pathetic things you could do. But missing out on practice—valuable time to hone your skills and increase Karasuno's chances of returning to the nationals by even a tenth of a percentage? That was definitely, undeniably worse.

Especially when nothing had happened. That's right—a week had been long enough for Tsukishima to run the scenario over and over in his head and make sense of the series of events. He had finally, with the relief of a mathematician that had spent countless hours on a complex problem and witnessed his effort culminate in a singular beautiful equation, turned up an eloquent answer to what had happened: nothing.

Or, just to be a little more detailed, a dick had been touched and a dick had responded, simple cause and effect, and not, as he had originally thought, the end of his friendship with Kuroo, practices with Nekoma, and the world. He had only run out of embarrassment; he had his pride and he hated being ridiculed.

Of course, in hindsight, that probably made things marginally worse, but it was nothing pretending like nothing had happened couldn't fix. And, well, the dreams that had come after were an unfortunate side effect that no one had to know about, an outlying constant he discovered after this mathematician's problem had been solved. It was better just to not factor it in. So Tsukishima assured himself as he entered the gym.

"Hey, Four Eyes!" Lev called out when Tsukishima arrived in the gymnasium, striding towards him, lanky arms and legs swinging. Looked like he was the second one here.

"Lev," Tsukishima stated.

"Hilaaaarious prank last week." His tone was friendly, but his eyes were glinting. "Thought I would forget, did you? But I can't forget something that funny!"

Tsukishima gazed back. An image of Lev soaked and wailing, flat gray hair pressed even flatter against his face, flashed into his mind, and he suppressed a smile. "Alright, what's it going to be?" he said, trying to keep his voice neutral.

Lev squinted at Tsukishima. "You're not even going to apologize? Beg for forgiveness? Nothing?"

"I'm sorry your head was in the way," the blond offered generously.

"Heeeeeeeeey—"

"What's this about?" A voice from behind cut in.

Tsukishima suppressed the urge to jump and he was successful in that, but he couldn't stop his fingers from curling up at his sides and twisting at the bottom of his sports uniform. He turned as casually as he was able and  inclined his head in greeting. "Kuroo."

Kuroo was smirking, amused. "Tsukki." He turned smiling, bright eyes back to Lev. "Why are you picking on my dear kouhai?"

Lev dropped his mouth, throwing his arms down in disbelief. "What... He's picking on me, Kuroo!" he protested.

Kuroo lifted his hand and placed it on the back of Tsukishima's neck, ignoring the sideways glance of the blond. "Oh? Haven't you guys had enough? You already got me back last week." He sighed dramatically. "They dragged me back outside and used the rest of the water balloons on me," he said to Tsukishima. His hand lightly squeezed the back of the younger boy's neck. "Can you believe that?"

"Oh. That sucks."

"Yeah. It did."

Tsukishima felt Kuroo's gaze on him and pointedly focused on Lev instead.

"It would've been nice if you were there." Another squeeze.

"So I could get wet too? No thanks."

"What's that saying? ‘A burden shared is a burden halved.’" Kuroo said.

Lev chuckled. "We figured Kuroo roped you into it. He deserved every last one of those water balloons. You were smart to get out of there first." He paused. "But clean up's you two's responsibility for the rest of our practice matches. Alright, Four Eyes? Kuroo's already agreed to it."

“Tch.” Tsukishima wanted to protest. Clean up with Kuroo meant staying late, alone, with Kuroo, which meant being reminded of his embarrassing blunder. He didn't want to deal with that right now. But the others didn't know what had happened, and making a fuss would look stupid.

“Fine,” he answered.

"Good." Lev smiled and turned to walk away before looking over his shoulder. "Oh, and nice throw. You really are one of us, Four-Eyes." Chuckling, he walked away.

Tsukishima gazed after him, wondering how using Lev's face to break open a water balloon had gained him his approval. This must be how friendships were formed. People were strange, especially volleyball players, as he had come to learn. Just like how he once hadn't understood why volleyball was so important to everyone, the complexities of male friendships flew over his head.

"So, clean up duty. Could be worse."

"What are you still doing here?" Tsukishima said. He shrugged off Kuroo's hand and tried to walk away.

The other man pulled him back by the shoulders as Tsukishima squirmed. "You seem tense," he drawled. With a smile, he leaned in. "Loosen up, okay?" He pulled away before the blond could swat his face like a fly. Winking, Kuroo sauntered off, evidently in a good mood.

Tsukishima gritted his teeth. Kuroo had always been a jokester, making inappropriate jokes around "his favorite blocker" but something had changed, and he didn't like it. He was beginning to doubt that simply pretending nothing had happen would fix things. Unfortunately, and he really didn't want to do this, he may just have to talk to Kuroo. Suck it up, apologize for last week, and ask that he ignore it so their relationship could go back to normal. It would become just another one of those stupid, silly moments between two boys that meant nothing, but somehow made you better friends.

☆✦☆✦☆✦☆✦☆✦☆✦

Tsukishima bent to pick up a volleyball that had strayed into the far corner of the gym. Practice was over and the others had headed out after gleefully calling out "Thanks, Tsukki!" This wasn't hard work, and it wasn't like he had anywhere else to be. It was just tedious.

After a long day of blocking and spiking, his palms and arms were red and sensitive. His long fingers, perpetually wrapped up in bandages, weren't the most adept at flexing, so he began improvising—flicking the ball up with a kick and catching it in his arms.

He glanced up at Kuroo, who was humming to himself as he trotted to the cart with five volleyballs in his arms. They hadn't spoken since before the practice match, although the Nekoma boy seemed to be entirely at ease.

"Looks like that's it," Kuroo said as Tsukki approached. "That was easy."

"It's a pretty tame punishment. I'm almost disappointed in Nekoma," Tsukishima said.

“You wouldn't be saying that if you stayed a little longer last week. It was brutal.” He laughed. “Oh, good job today," he said, as if he had just remembered. "That was a great block against Lev during the third match."

Tsukishima brightened up. "Thanks. Training with Nekoma really helps."

Kuroo gestured towards the cart. "You got this?”

Tsukishima nodded. He placed his hands against the cart and spun around, pushing it towards the closet. Looks like things were returning to normal. Even better, it was happening naturally without an unnecessary conversation taking place. Just the way he liked it. He hated intense people, loud people, and fussy people. There was nothing more aggravating than people who made a big deal out of nothing.

He heard Kuroo step into the closet and turned. "I'm done here—"

Tsukishima stopped when he caught sight of Kuroo leaning across the doorway, arms crossed. His tall figure cast a shadow on the ground. "Looks like we keep meeting in a closet," Kuroo said, a sly smile playing at his lips.

"Uhh." What happened to the unspoken agreement, Kuroo? This was the opposite of letting it go. "Let's not make this a habit."

He walked towards Kuroo, waited for a breath. The older man simply stood there, head tilted to the side and tousled dark hair partly covering one eye, waiting for a reaction. His eyes were taunting. Alright, fine, don't move. Ignoring his gaze, the Karasuno boy tried squeezing his way past.

Kuroo slammed his hand against the doorway, blocking off Tsukishima's exit. The blond jumped, startled. Quickly, he regained control of his body and simply raised his eyebrows, shooting Kuroo a disinterested look, as if he were beyond this silliness.

"Do you mind? I've spent enough time in this gym for one day,” he said coolly, while his heart rammed his ribcage with quick, heavy pulses. Once again, he felt an inexplicable need to escape. Without waiting for a response, he ducked his head, trying to escape under Kuroo's extended arm.

Kuroo tsked, lowering his arm and catching Tsukishima around his midsection, almost tackling him like a footballer. He easily heaved him back, pushing the cart out of the way in his haste. It spiraled towards the corner and slammed into some giant floor mops, sending them clattering to the floor along with several volleyballs.

“Oops,” Kuroo said, without a hint of an apology in his voice. He pressed a resisting Tsukishima against a stack of tumbling mats. Then his hands found Tsukishima’s wrists (what else was new?) and squeezing them in his hands, he pushed them against the gym mats.

They stared at each other.

Calmly, Kuroo adjusted his grip so it wasn't as tight, although it also wasn't loose enough for escape. His eyes were dark, intense.

Clenching his teeth, Tsukishima gritted out, “Getting real tired of this.”

"You teased me and then you ran away. I had to go home and jerk off, little crow," Kuroo said, with a dramatic sigh. "And then I had to wait a whole week to see you again."

Teased? Jerk...off? Tsukishima looked up into the other boy's face, stunned, squeezing his hands closed, digging fingernails into his palms as he tried wrenching his arms free. "Why the hell would you do that? Damn pervert."

The strange combination of emotions on Kuroo's face quieted him for a moment. He was amused, calm, playful, and (this was a new one, and not one Tsukishima had witnessed before) seductive?

His heart beat wildly. Tsukishima struggled to hear his thoughts over it and he was sure Kuroo could hear it too.

"I'm happy you came back. Given how you ran away last week, I figured you weren't going to be showing up anymore." He laughed. "But I guess you can't stay away."

Of course, this was a joke. He was being teased as always, except Kuroo had crossed the line and now it really wasn't funny.

"I come here for practice," Tsukishima said.

“I'm sure one part of you did. And then there’s the other part…” Kuroo trailed off and his eyes fell. He gave Tsukishima a long, pointed look. 

Tsukishima glanced down too, then lifted his face towards the ceiling. He closed his eyes. Of course. After what happened last week, he shouldn't be surprised whenever his body was a piece of shit traitor by now. Doing what it did best. Completely cutting off all ties with his brain and going off to some fantasy land.

"I don't mind if you're physically attracted to me," Kuroo murmured. "In fact, I want you to be."

"I'm not." Tsukishima breathed, eyes still closed.

"You're always looking at me."

"I'm observing, that's how I learn." Stop toying with me.

"And I got the feeling, this kid's wound up way too tight. He's been pent up for god knows how long."

"Where did you get that idea from?"

"Last week. A little physical contact and you were hard as a rock." He paused. "And you're cute. So I don't mind being a good senpai and helping you out."

All Tsukishima had wanted was to play volleyball and learn from the best. Things like  _that_  didn't interest him. It was a need he fulfilled when he had to, so he could continue operating at peak condition. It was maintenance of the teenage boy’s body, nothing he particularly enjoyed or wasted more than a few minutes on.

At least, that's how it used to be. In the last week, this had changed as he had begun having certain dreams. These dreams, which accomplished nothing other than leave him confused and shaken in the morning, were, for someone like Tsukishima—someone who had always commanded absolute control of his body and thoughts—an unwelcome intrusion to the predictability of his life. They forced him to take care of business more often, and it was annoying. Even as he bit back groans during spasms that were more pleasurable than he had ever experienced, he was annoyed. God, this must be it. He was finally experiencing the hellish throes of puberty at its peak. At least, and this meant next to nothing, there was one consistent factor to his dreams: They always featured the same man.

The Karasuno boy opened his eyes. "I don't need help with anything." He didn't sound very convincing, even to himself, and he sure as hell didn't look like it.  He tried again, a bit more forcefully. "Why don't you proposition a girl who's actually interested?"

"But I don't like girls," Kuroo said, as matter-of-factly as if he were saying he didn't like vegetables. “I like boys like you.”

He waited, almost bored, for a reaction. Tsukishima’s mouth gaped and the need to escape, which had been at the forefront of his thoughts, faded into the background. He furiously scanned his brain for signs leading up to this confession, if you could even call it that; it had really sounded like nothing more than stating a fact akin to “It appears to be raining” and “Today, I had a bento box lunch.” His brain came up empty. This is news to me too, it said.

Up until now, Kuroo had put on a very convincing performance that he was nothing if not obsessed with girls. Whenever he saw Karasuno’s managers, he roared in unison with the rest of his team over their beauty and cuteness, heralding them as angels that graced the men with their presence, and on and on. Even so, Tsukishima doubted he was lying now. In a way, this confession lent sincerity to the older man, as he realized Kuroo had never been disgusted with him.

"Kuroo likes men." Tsukishima rolled this thought around in his head, mentally chewing on it before accepting it quickly. Likewise, he thought nothing negative of this newfound fact, unless you counted a few of the ignorant questions that popped into his head to be dismissive of homosexuality. Questions like "since when?” and “how do you know for sure?” and “are one of the signs dreams where you kiss other men?"

Kuroo had long ago dropped Tsukishima’s wrists and was observing him with growing amusement. "Think any harder and your brain’s going to catch on fire."

Tsukishima blushed.

"You are slow. All this time, I thought you were smart, but I guess it doesn't extend to off the court, huh? It's like how the straight A students don't have any street smarts. You are a complete idiot when it comes to love," Kuroo pressed a finger to Tsukishima's forehead. "I'm. Hit. Ting. On. You. Kiss. Me," Kuroo said, enunciating each syllable. 

Tsukishima opened his mouth, and said nothing.

“Yes or no?” Kuroo asked softly, bringing his face close, his lips one of the answers.

He was offering up his slightly opened mouth. And Tsukishima, staring at this offering and feeling his body quiver, found himself remembering a dream from last week that he had suppressed from his memories. A dream of soft and heavy kisses, fingers intertwined in his hair, strong hands running from his face, caressing his neck, tracing the outlines of his abs teasingly, and moving down to the waistband of his boxers. A man sighing "Tsukki" as he peppered his thin wrist with light, delicate kisses. A dream that Tsukishima had woken up from sweating, panting, and painfully hard.

He was torn. Torn between shoving Kuroo away and leaning in to answer the mystery of what kissing him would feel like in reality. Up until now, this scenario had only played out in silenced fantasies. Would it be soft and sweet? Heavy and hot? He looked from his mouth back up to Kuroo's dark and serious eyes, sensing an ardent fire behind them. Would it feel the way it did in his dreams and leave him aching for more?

Tsukishima had simultaneously nothing and everything to lose. Hesitation clawed at his insides as something nameless and even more powerful urged him forward. He was standing at the precipice and he couldn't see what was on the other side. He could only hope Kuroo would be at the bottom to catch him.

Tsukishima exhaled. "Yes." He closed his eyes and leaned forward.

And he felt Kuroo's mouth on his, soft, tasting faintly of unflavored chapstick, which wasn’t really flavorless, and he felt his chest tightening, his heart pounding, the world slipping away the way it did when he was a child and he would spin in circles with his eyes to the skies until he finally toppled to the grass. He reached up to touch Kuroo's cheek because he didn’t know what the hell he was doing anymore, only that his simple gesture felt natural and right. And Kuroo was lifting his other hand up gently, breaking the kiss to give some attention to his wrist. He pressed his lips against it over and over in what seemed like an apology for treating it roughly moments before, and he whispered, "Tsukki."


	3. Kiss Me and Don't Stop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tsukki and Kuroo kiss some more and have a chat about the future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry that this last chapter is a bit short compared to the first two. I might add to it later but I didn't want to take forever to post this.
> 
> Thank you for reading! It was fun to write my second fanfic. When I was younger, I always began stories in my diary, but never finished a single one. Posting on AO3 really holds me accountable, and getting a kudos or comment makes me smile like an idiot for the next hour.

Tsukishima moved his hands from Kuroo’s face, down to his back, using Kuroo as a rock to brace himself against the dizziness in his head.

Kuroo hummed in his throat, a happy sound. He bent his head to the side, quietly moving his lips from Tsukishima’s pliant mouth to his neck, peppering them with kisses generously and lightly, then sucking and licking harder and harder. Tsukishima, eyes squeezed tight, felt Kuroo’s hands roaming, lightly grazing down the front of his uniform, and he shivered pleasantly. They ended at the waistband of his shorts. The blond’s eyes snapped opened.

“That’s—”

Kuroo slipped his hand inside.

Tsukishima shoved him back with all the force he could muster. As he caught sight of Kuroo’s shocked expression, a twinge of regret shot through him. That might have been too forceful. But he kept his face emotionless, the guard he had let slip for a few minutes back up again, as he readjusted he shorts.

“That’s enough.”

Kuroo opened his mouth as if to argue, but just as quickly, he stopped himself. His usual playful smile returned to his lips as he lifted his hands up in a shrug. “Whatever you want.”

Not as if Tsukishima knew what that was anymore.  It had been easier when Kuroo stated his choices in a straightforward way—“Yes or no?” He had been given options to an unspoken, but very obvious, question. But now, he didn’t even know what the question was. Could he say yes and no at the same time? It was probably best if he kept his mouth shut and avoided a decision completely.

Kuroo’s eyes softened as if he could sense Tsukishima’s thoughts. His smile subtly shifted to a kind one absent of the usual hint of taunting. “You’re not as bad a kisser as I thought you would be, Tsukki,” he said. “That was fun.”

Tsukishima gave him a half-hearted glare. When Kuroo’s kind face did not change, he let himself relax slightly. “It wasn’t bad,” he admitted.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” Kuroo said.

A faint dusting of pink appeared on Tsukishima’s cheeks. He wasn’t even embarrassed to hear this himself—he was more embarrassed for Kuroo, who said such things as nonchalantly as if he were talking about the weather. It must be amazing to be that confident—so self-assured you were completely unaffected by the pure cheese that left your mouth.

Another moment passed, and Tsukishima dropped the guardedness he had been carrying wrapped around him all day like a heavy blanket. He felt naked and bared, and a strong desire to wrap his body with his long arms and hide. Instead, he held Kuroo’s earnest gaze. Faintly, underneath the pulsing of embarrassment, he felt lightness and giddiness swirling in his stomach.

“Then, let’s do it again next week,” Tsukishima mumbled, self-consciously raising his hand to his pink-tinged ear.

 

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Over the next two weeks, Tsukishima found himself—although he denied it vehemently to himself—looking forward to cleanup almost as much as practice. _Almost_.

Tsukishima had never known how many types of kisses there were.

Sometimes they were passionate, with Kuroo embracing him tightly and kissing with a fervent energy of a tidal wave, an overpowering force that Tsukishima simply could not keep up with. It carried him away from shore and dragged him out to sea, where he drowned in the beautiful ferocity of the kiss.

Other times, they were slow and languid, as if Kuroo were taste-testing his mouth—biting softly on Tsukishima’s lower lip, sucking on his tongue, exploring every corner of his mouth with the thoroughness and attentiveness of an archeologist who had discovered sacred ground. These were relaxing, pleasant, sweet, and not so overpowering that Tsukishima forgot his other senses.

During these kisses he enjoyed the sensation of Kuroo’s ruffled hair beneath his fingers, the smoothness of his shoulder blades, and the firmness of his back muscles. It was then that he noticed the faint scent of Kuroo’s mint aftershave, the taste of his chap stick, and—Tsukishima’s favorite— the quiet, suppressed sound of his hungry moan.

Tsukishima especially liked it when he lay on the tumbling mats with Kuroo on top of him, the black-haired man’s weight pressing against him in a comforting way, like hugging horizontally.

“I want you,” Kuroo whispered in his ear.

While Tsukishima still blushed at Kuroo’s straightforwardness, he had grown adept at responding to it.

“That’s too bad,” he murmured, smirking into Kuroo’s mouth before Kuroo responded with a particularly forceful kiss.

Kuroo had meant what he said by “whatever you want.” The ex-captain hadn’t pushed for more, complained, or sneakily slipped a hand where it wasn’t supposed to be. Instead, he kissed Tsukishima some more, until his jaw was sore, his lips were chapped, and they were both breathless. Then he would rest his head on Tsukishima’s chest, breathing softly so he could listen to the blond’s erratic heartbeat slow to steadiness.

Kuroo broke the kiss and propped himself up by his arms, palms spread on the tumbling mat on both sides of Tsukishima. He looked down and groaned.

“Do you even know what you look like right now?” He covered Tsukishima’s face with his hand. “You’re a tease.”

Tsukishima turned his head and shoved the other man’s hand away. “Shut up unless you want this to end.” He had used this threat before to great effectiveness, but now his heart dropped at his own words as he realized they had become meaningless.

It was going to end anyway, and very, very soon.  Next week was their last practice together and Kuroo was set to leave for university the next day. In fact, Nekoma and Tsukishima weren’t even sure why Kuroo was making practice next Friday when he should be finishing up packing and saying his good-byes.

“Old habits die hard,” Kuroo had said with a smirk. “And I want to make sure one last time you idiots aren’t completely hopeless without me.”

Tsukishima didn’t want Kuroo to leave. That was the truth, plain and simple and impossible to say out loud.

Three instances of kissing—that was no reason to get his heart in a twist.

But a summer of practicing together, of checking if his idol had looked his way after every well-calculated block, being praised and complimented when he was good, ridiculed and yelled at when he plainly sucked—that had to add up to something. Tsukishima owed his progress to Kuroo, who made him want to get better. But it wasn’t just that. He remembered running a few steps behind Kuroo, laughing because they were in on the same joke, thinking he liked the feeling of being on the boy’s team.

Tsukishima didn’t just like being on Kuroo’s team. He liked being by his side.

His heart panged painfully. He had come to this conclusion already, and it was pointless and dumb to rehash once again how he felt when their interactions meant nothing to Kuroo. They were no different than when Kuroo assisted anyone else on his team. So what if Tsukishima executed an impressive block? Kuroo rubbed Kenma on the head whenever the short boy set up an amazing toss, which was too often to count.

Kissing Tsukishima was nothing more than a physical indulgence Kuroo would happily swap for something more with someone else. It was probably like taking a Twizzler from the bowl sitting on a bank teller’s desk, not because you liked Twizzlers, but because they were just there.

Kuroo gently turned Tsukishima’s face towards his again. “We both know I’m leaving next week,” he said softly, “and it doesn’t seem right to leave things this way.”

Tsukishima pushed himself to a sitting position. The change in position forced Kuroo to sit back on Tsukishima’s lap with his thighs on opposite sides of the blond. His heart was sinking, but still, as calmly as he could, he asked, “What are you saying?”

Kuroo seemed to be finding a way to word his thoughts carefully. His mouth opened and closed before he finally said, “All we’ve been doing is kissing.”

Tsukishima winced. He had wanted to do more—he really had—but he was scared to death of falling more in love. He was terrified that even his body would crave Kuroo, when it was already unbearable that his heart desired him. But the last thing he wanted to hear was Kuroo’s disappointment that their friends with benefits situation had benefited him so little.

“Yeah, so?” Tsukishima snapped, stalling for time to build his walls up again.

Kuroo brushed Tsukishima’s hair back from his forehead. “Well,” he said, “isn’t it obvious? I want more than this.”

Tsukishima closed his eyes as his heart throbbed painfully. He felt as if Kuroo had knocked down his half-finished wall, stripped him bare, and plunged a sword through his heart. He had finally said it.

“No,” Tsukishima choked out. “That’s not possible.” He shoved at Kuroo’s shoulder. “Get off.”

Kuroo remained firmly planted on his lap. “Tsukki,” he said. “I knew you would freak out. But give me a chance. I’m asking for one date. That’s all I need to prove it’s worth it.”

Tsukishima froze, his hand still pressed against the other boy’s shoulder. Kuroo’s words bounced around in his mind, but he could barely register their meaning.

“Date?” he asked dumbly.

“Yeah.” Kuroo nodded. “I always waited for Fridays to see you before realizing, of course, I don’t only have to see you on Fridays.” He smacked his own head, shaking his head at his stupidity. “So, I want to take you out to dinner. I’ll pick you up. Tomorrow, 7PM. Are you free?”

Tsukishima gaped at Kuroo in shock. Did this mean what he thought and really hoped it meant? This could only be a dream, right?

“But you’re leaving next week,” Tsukishima said.

Kuroo scrunched up his face. “I told you, one date is all I need to prove long-distance is worth it.” He smiled. “Don’t you trust me by now, Tsukki?”

Tsukishima looked up at him, mouth open, searching Kuroo’s face for the truth, and all he could find was earnestness. He nodded speechlessly, and felt a sudden sting in his eyes. With a jerk, he pulled Kuroo against him in a hug, burrowing his face in the other man’s chest to hide the tears suddenly threatening to spill.

Kuroo reached his hands to Tsukishima’s back, rubbing them comfortingly on the taller boy’s back. They were silent for a few moments.

“Are you that happy that you upgraded from supply closet make outs to fancy dinners?” Kuroo joked.

“Shut up.”

Tsukishima grinned against Kuroo’s chest. Lifting his head, wrapping his arms around Kuroo’s neck, he drew him in for a different, new kiss that they hadn’t shared yet, one that topped all the others they had shared up until that point—a kiss that meant “I love you.”


End file.
